I Ain't No Ga Ga Girl
by M.L. Widmann
Summary: Once Bohemians have taken over and are free to play their rock n' roll, the world has changed drastically; especially for one Ga Ga girl who decides that she could be taking on a whole new way of life.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, save for one. All other characters are owned by Ben Elton, lyrics by Queen and I don't own any other band names or references that I may have mentioned.

Chapter One

www/jenny -at- thesmith -dot- com

That was her name. She was the popular one. The cute one. Wavy, brown hair. Brown eyes. Tight shirt. Short skirt. She was a Ga Ga Girl. She could sing, and boy could she dance. Robotic moves to robotic music. A big, white smile on her plastic face the whole time. And she was happy.

That's how it was before the Bohemians had virtually destroyed Globalsoft and emailed the power of real rock and roll music to every Ga Ga Kid on Planet Mall. That's when it all changed.

She was still popular; still cute; and she could still dance. But she was no longer happy. Now that she wasn't ignorant to real music, she knew what she was missing and she knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be a Bohemian.

Her friends reacted precisely as she'd planned, too.

"You're leaving us for _them_?!"

"What a _loser_!"

"Ooooh!"

"I can't believe you're giving up the great life you have now just for this."

"Yeah!"

But she'd prepared her response.

"This is what I want." She wanted to break free from their lies. And that's just what she got. After that conversation, no Ga Ga Girl would ever call her a friend again.

She had been informed via email of the place where they lived: the Heartbreak Hotel. All she had to do was get there.

Now where was _there_...

Her pale pink bag was propped up by both shoulders as she slowly moved ahead on an unknown path. As she hesitantly glanced around a corner, she felt a jolt in her heartbeat as someone grabbed her bag from behind and threw her into a solid brick wall.

"Who are you?!" screamed the girl who held the former Ga Ga Girl to the wall with her forearm. The girl had wild, blonde hair with colourful highlights, fierce eyes and a dagger in her loose hand. She wore the most unusual clothing, too. A tight green corset was wrapped around her torso and her legs were covered by fishnet stockings and raggedy purple shorts. The silence must have been too long for her liking because she screamed again. "Hey, Ga Ga Girl! What are you doing here?"

Two of the blonde girl's friends stepped out from around the corner. One was a girl with long, purple hair tied in four or five different hair ties, dressed in a red, torn leather dress. The other was a boy in a leather jacket and jeans. His hair was brown and scruffy.

"I ain't no Ga Ga Girl!" she said, more bravely than she felt. That's when she noticed the purple-haired girl's eyes widen as if she was remembering something...

"Oh, a feisty one." The blonde girl growled. "What are you doing here?!"

"I was looking for the Heartbreak Hotel..."

"Spy!" The blonde girl used her forearm to push the former Ga Ga Girl into the wall before letting her go only for a second to put the dagger to her throat. "What do you want? Restart Globalsoft? Find Killer Queen? Kill the dreamer?" At her last comment, she jerked her head toward the boy.

"No! I don't want any of that!"

But the blonde girl wasn't listening. "Figgy, Scaramouche, zap her!"

There was a flash of light and a shockwave of thunder before the girl dressed in Ga Ga collapsed to the pavement.

She awoke tied to a wooden pole. A handkerchief was stuffed into her mouth to prevent any noise escaping her lips. The room was warm and dark. Nothing else was visible but the chair directly in front of her where the purple-haired girl sat.

"Why were you looking for the Heartbreak Hotel?" she asked. She was more calm than the blonde one, as she pulled the scarf from her prisoner's tongue.

"I want to be one of you."

Her face softened. "What?"

"I want to be a Bohemian. I can't go back to where I came from now, they all think I'm crazy."

"...You're serious?"

"Yeah."

Without losing eye contant, the purple-haired girl called out, "Figgy! Figgy, get down here!"

The boy ran down a set of stairs, ducking as to not hit his head on the ceiling. "What is it?"

"She wants to be a Bohemian."

He furrowed his brow. "Really?" A smile formed on his face. "I'm Galileo Figaro. They call me Figgy. And this is Scary Bush..."

"Scaramouche!" shouted the girl.

"I'm www/jenny -at- thesmith ..."

"No." Galileo said, "I knew someone like you would want to join us. I've got a name for you."

"Really? What is it?"

"Page."

"Page?"

"Yeah." Galileo smiled. He looked giddy and anxious. "Wanna learn about where I got it?"

"Yeah sure, but you can untie me first?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Scaramouche and Galileo untied Page from her post and she sat down on the wooden floor.

"So why am I called Page?" This was it, her first steps to becoming a Bohemian were underway. She couldn't wait to meet the others and hear about their stories.

"Long ago there was a band that influenced classic rock more than any. They were called Led Zeppelin. The man on guitar was one of the most talented of them all. His name was Jimmy Page." Galileo's face began to lighten up from his tense story and he grinned at the girl sitting next to him. "Scaramouche can show you the guitars and we can see if you have the same talents as the king from which your name comes from."

"Chill, Figgy. Page, come with me." Page stood up, her legs numb, and followed Scaramouche to a room behind the one where she'd been held captive. "We've been duplicating the guitar we found... which one do you like?" She flicked a switch, flooding the room with light and allowing Page to see guitars lining the walls of this tiny room. Her eyes immediately were drawn to a pale blue one that read 'Fender Stratocaster'. Page stroked a string with her forefinger and then picked it from its stand. Before Scaramouche could tell her to start playing, she'd already plucked a soothing tune.

"I know that song." Galileo appeared in the doorway.

"What?" Page asked.

"That's the song I heard when I dreamed about you last night. It must be a tune played by the great Jimmy Page! Yes, that's it!"

"Well, you can keep that guitar if you like." Scaramouche said, trying to ignore Galileo's fit of excitement. "We've got more where that came from." She slung the blue Fender over her shoulder just as Figgy about had another fit.

"I think it's time you meet the others." Her hand was snatched up in an instant by Galileo's and he pulled her up the stairs from which he entered. The flight of stairs lead outside, where the light almost burned Page's retinas from being in the dark for so long.

"Why does she have that?" The crazy blonde girl asked, pointing the dagger Page was so familiar with at her once again.

"Everyone," said Galileo, "this is Page. Go ahead Page, play them something." This time her fingers took over, they played a harder riff than before. It continued into a quick solo and back to the jamming riff again. This caused all of the Bohemians to 'ooooh!' at her talent. "She's a Bohemian now."

"Can't all Bohemians play guitar?" Page asked, hoping she didn't come off as a snobby Ga Ga Girl.

Galileo blushed. "Uh... no. Scaramouche can, and so can Oz and Paul McCartney. We're all trying to learn, though. That's why we're making so many."

"Who are..."

"Oh right. Page, this is Oz;" Galileo pointed to the wild blonde girl with the dagger. "That's Pop..." An older man with blonde dreads and a denim vest waved from the roof. "And there's Paul, Alanis, Clay, Aretha, Burton and Madonna." All of the Bohemians wore torn clothing covered in patches and had wild hair. Then there was Page. Still donning her white and orange Ga Ga clothes. Her hair as plain as ever.

"Hey, where'd you guys get these cool clothes?"

"We found them." Oz smiled, obviously feeling awkward after the way she'd first treated Page. "Here, let's get you some Bohemian threads!"

After hours of sifting through a pile of clothing articles, getting made up and then having Oz style her hair, Page was finally looking the part. She looked at herself in a full-length mirror and smiled. She'd changed into a pink tank top with a short red plaid skirt. A black sports coat was draped over her shoulders. It was ragged and the back was covered in patches from old bands that she'd never heard of but couldn't wait to learn about. Her hair had been dyed hot pink and tied in two low ponytails, and her eyelids had been painted in a green powder.

Page saw Oz come up behind her in the mirror and put her arms around her waist. "You look great, Ga Ga Doll."

"Please don't call me that."

"Sorry." Oz chuckled. "You look like a real _Bohemian,_ Page."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Days had passed and Page was learning about all of the bands and artists that shaped music. Queen, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Nirvana, and especially after she'd adapted the name, Page wanted to study Led Zeppelin the most. She felt as though she had something to owe to Jimmy.

Pop had lent Page all of his library books about classic rock music. He called her his little disciple because she was the only one who showed any interest in the library.

As Page sat inside the Heartbreak Hotel, her nose stuck in a book, Galileo jumped down the stairs and ducked down to her eye level at the desk.

"Hey, Page." She swung the book flat on the desk, almost hitting him square in the face. "Everyone's having a party tonight. Were you going to join us?"

"A party? Really?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"Sweet!"

All of the Bohemians at the Heartbreak Hotel were outside under colourful, hanging lights that night, dancing and singing to a tune Page had learned to be Crazy Little Thing Called Love by a band called Queen. There was only one little problem: Page knew how to dance to Globalsoft music. Not Bohemian music. She felt the same discomfort as though her crutches had been pulled away and she was attempting to stand on her own after years of being supported.

"Page, loosen up!" Oz screamed over the music. "Just go with the beat!"

She tried, but couldn't look as comfortable on the floor as Oz or Scaramouche did. Figgy didn't look great either, but he was constantly in a state of awkwardness, so that was expected.

Watching all of the other Bohemians dancing together only made Page feel even more isolated. Once her heart had almost sunk to her stomach, she decided to go to her room and play some guitar.

Once back inside, Page was heading towards her bedroom, a door that hung open on its hinges revealed a Bohemian that she had never met before. Her curiosity edged her closer to the door. The man wore a grey suit, dark sunglasses and his white blonde hair was gelled back. He was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Um... hello?" Page said cautiously, knocking on his already open door. At the sound of her voice, he sat up and looked at her.

"Hello." said the man. He had a suave accent that sounded almost British and as she approached him, she noticed he was a young man, too. He couldn't have been more than five years older than Page.

"Why aren't you at the party with everyone else?" She asked him. Page had been the only one that the Bohemians had cast out slightly, due to her history, and they hadn't even _bothered_ to introduce her to this Bohemian...

"I'm not exactly accepted by them... wait, why aren't _you_ at the party?"

"I can't dance." That was a bit of an exaggeration, but in her state of unhappiness, that's exactly how she felt.

The man furrowed his brow. "Aren't you the Ga Ga Girl?"

"I ain't no Ga Ga Girl!" Page said moodily. Man that line was getting old. "And I can dance, just not to this music."

A loud verse of that Queen song could be heard from upstairs, making both Page and the man look at their shoes. "Would you like to dance?" the man asked, holding out his hand. Page took it and helped him stand from his bed. As she danced the flowing robotic moves of Ga Ga, he foolishly wiggled about and tried to have fun. Seconds later he stopped abruptly and sat back down. "Don't tell me you can't dance after witnessing what you just did."

Page giggled. "Okay, well thanks."

"I'm Khashoggi." He held out his hand, only this time as though he wanted her to shake it.

"It's Page."

"Page? Where'd Galileo get that one?"

"Jimmy Page, from Led Zeppelin. What about yours? Khashoggi... I don't remember reading about that one."

"I didn't get it from Galileo." He hesitated. "I had it even before I came to the Heartbreak Hotel."

Suddenly it occurred to Page who this man was. "Khashoggi? The one who worked for Killer Queen?!"

"N-no, Page listen." He stammered at the speed he was trying to dig himself out of the hole he was in. "She fired me. Sent me off to the Seven Seas of Rhye. I drank myself silly for days... But then I really started to like it here... Only problem is –"

"You tried to kill their dreamer, so they don't want to have anything to do with you?" Page interjected with a sarcastic smile.

Khashoggi just resumed his initial position by kicking his legs up onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. "You can leave now."

"What, why would I leave?"

"Well, you're a Bohemian now. I'd assume you wouldn't want to hurt your chances of becoming a part of their 'in-crowd'."

"You sound like my old friends."

Khashoggi chuckled. "It doesn't matter if you're a Ga Ga Kid or a Bohemian, Page. Kids always want to be accepted into a group."

"But not the Bohemians. That's why they came here."

"They came here because they wanted to find someone who understood them. I'm pretty sure that's trying to fit in." At the sight of Page's confused face, he added, "It's human nature." She had nothing to say. Maybe he was right about them... Once the silence had lasted a few seconds, Khashoggi spoke again. "You can leave now." he repeated.

"No, I'm fine here."

He paused. "Fine, but if you're going to stay, can you at least teach me some guitar?"

"Why?" Page grinned. "So you can fit in with the rest of them?"

"No, uh... it'll give me something to do in my spare time."

She smiled knowing that he was telling a full-blown lie as to not look like a hypocrite. "Fine."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four  


Page and the man called Khashoggi spent days together. At first, they locked themselves up in Page's room as she taught him to dance. They both came to the conclusion that learning to dance in private would result in less humiliation overall; mainly for Khashoggi.

"Look," she said, "try it like this." Page pushed the 'play' button on the digital music player on her dresser, and a quick-tempo rock song began to blast from the speakers hanging on the walls. Following the rhythm, she'd finally ditched her Ga Ga moves and learned how to let the beat take over her body. Page began to shake and jive to the music; Khashoggi's eyes were glued to her the whole time. "Come on, it's not that hard!"

Both of their hands extended toward each other and held on as he stood from Page's bed and mimicked her every movement, hoping she wouldn't notice. As she started headbanging, he made an attempt to copy her, but stopped upon realizing how messy his hair was getting and quickly smoothed it back again. Page caught sight of Khashoggi's panicked face as he fixed his hair and she giggled. Hearing Page laugh brought the end of his lips to a curve and an embarassed chuckle rose from his throat.

Once they'd decided that teaching Khashoggi to dance was a lost cause, Page leant him one of the unclaimed guitars and brought her own to the front of the Heartbreak Hotel. They pulled up a stool, took a breath of fresh air and the lessons were at a start.

Page taught him each individual note, then how to string them together as chords. After noticing she was moving too fast for him, she back-tracked. She only showed him the simple chords and then gave him a book to practice the rest on his own when lessons weren't in session.

From about fifteen feet away, Galileo, Scaramouche and Oz watched the odd pair with some confusion.

"If Page was trying to escape her old life, why would she be hanging out with him?" Scaramouche asked no one in particular.

"I don't know, babe." Galileo replied, his arms around her waist, holding her tight. Oz looked at the couple with a hint of depression, then back at Page and Khashoggi, laughing and smiling. She saw Khashoggi get up and head back inside, leaving Page alone with her guitar. That's when the three Bohemians decided to approach her about their concern.

Upon realizing Figgy, Oz and Scaramouche coming her way, Page put her guitar in its case on the ground and waved at them.

"Hey, what's going on?" she said happily. Their stern faces made her smile fade.

"Page, you know Khashoggi wanted to kill Figgy, right?" Scaramouche said, placing her hand on Page's shoulder. Her voice was getting forceful.

"Yeah."

"Then why would you want to converse with him?"

"He's a person who just wants a friend."

"Come on, Page. He might just be here to spy on us."

"If that's what you think, why don't you get Oz to jab her knife at him, then?" Page asked angrily, mentioning the one girl who hadn't said a word. Her comment had made Oz look down at her boots.

"He's pathetic and weak without his police and laser gun."

"He's a nice guy who just wants to fit in!"

"That's his problem." And with her last words, both the dreamer and his bad-assed babe turned and walked away.

Oz took Khashoggi's empty seat and picked up Page's chin which had been pointed at the floor. "Listen, Page. Does being with this guy make you happy?"

"Yeah. It really does. Oz," Page looked the wild Bohemian in the eye, she didn't seem so wild anymore. "he understands me. We came from the same place..."

"I know what you mean. I think you should ignore the guys and be with whoever you want to."

"Thanks." Page and Oz smiled at each other.

"Oh," Oz perked up as she remembered something she was going to say. "I never properly apologized for... well... what happened the first day we met."

"Forget about it."

Oz nodded with a grin and left Page to carry on with her song. Just then, the man with blonde hair and sunglasses took his place next to Page again.

"What did Oz want?"

"We just got off on the wrong foot. She came to apologize." She looked Khashoggi in the eye and wondered how someone like him could be so misunderstood. Sure, he looked the part of the bad guy, but how could he be so outcast from everyone like that? "Figgy and Scaramouche came to talk to me, too." she admitted. "They told me I shouldn't be talking to you."

"Oh," he hung his head slightly, "and what did you say?"

Page grinned wide enough to see all of her pearly white teeth, even the ones in the back. "Screw 'em."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"That's good!" Page exclaimed happily as Khashoggi plucked a slow melody on his acoustic guitar. "You're making lots of progress." And he was. He had been practicing the instrument for two months. That brought Page's total number of weeks at the Heartbreak Hotel to ten. The Bohemians were civil with her and even considered her a friend, but the only one to _really_ open up to her was Khashoggi. She had become more to him than a guitar teacher. Page grew to be his best friend. They didn't tell each other about the mutual feeling of a strong friendship, although they were both aware of its presence.

"Hey! Page, Figgy!" Scaramouche called out from the other end of the Heartbreak Hotel. Page was speaking with Galileo about his mission to return rock and roll to the world, when she heard Scaramouche calling her.

"Oh hey, what's going on?" Page asked, getting excited about the anxious tone in her voice.

"It's Oz's birthday tomorrow and we're going to have a surprise party for her. You in?" She whispered to ensure the party remained secret.

"Of course!" Figgy and Page responded in unison.

Scaramouche grinned. "Great, see you then."

"Surprise!" all of the Bohemians shouted at Oz as they jumped out from behind pieces of furniture sitting outside the Heartbreak Hotel.

"Aw, thanks guys!" she blushed slightly but beamed the whole time. "But next time you're planning a surprise, make sure you keep an eye on Clay. He doesn't know when to stop talking."

The Bohemian called Clay giggled and covered his mouth in embarrassment. "Oops guys, I spilled the beans!"

Page nudged Scaramouche and they both revealed a suppressed laugh to one another.

As the evening wore on, the crazy group of Bohemians got even more unselfconscious as they downed whiskey after whiskey. Page had only had a few drinks – enough to get her up and dancing. Apparently she wasn't the only one; Khashoggi had bothered to leave his room for this party, and he was even dancing. But he was dancing alone.

"Hey, Khashoggi!" Page wiggled her way over to his gyrating figure and shouted to make sure he could hear her over the loud music. "You having fun?"

"Oh yeah!" He exclaimed. Wearing his sunglasses outside at night couldn't be useful, but she decided to ignore it. "I'm so glad I got outside for a drink; I haven't had this much fun in a long time!"

Suddenly a very deep, taunting voice overpowered the music. "A party? And I wasn't invited?" Someone stopped the music as every Bohemians eyes were on the woman who had just entered the scene. She was quite a large woman donning an extravagant red Mohawk-type haircut and leopard print jacket.

"Killer Queen..." Page muttered under her breath. Her heart started to pound in her chest.

She pulled out a laser gun and pointed it directly at Galileo. "Who should be the first to go?" Killer Queen asked herself in a tone that was too amused for Page's liking. "Galileo Figaro?" She moved the gun to the girl with purple hair standing next to him."His bad-assed babe?" Searching for another person to point her gun at, she came across the one Bohemian that stuck out like a sore thumb. "Ah, if it isn't the man that let the dreamer go."

"Madam!" Khashoggi said nervously, "You're back!"

"That's right. You were hoping you'd never have to see me again, weren't you?"

"Not at all, madam!"

"Spare me the lies, Khashoggi! Ah, and who is this?" Killer Queen turned her gun to the girl hiding behind Khashoggi's rather broad figure. "I've never seen this one before... new girl?"

"Leave her, ma'am." Khashoggi sighed. "She's done nothing wrong."

"The way I see it, you've all done something wrong. Are you forgetting instruments and real music are illegal?"

"You were overthrown!" Oz growled. "Those rules aren't in effect anymore!"

"Ah, but I'm back in power now." Killer Queen grinned and began to walk toward Khashoggi and Page. "You all thought you could get rid of me, didn't you? Well, you were wrong."

"Ma'am, please..." A beg came out of the man Page used as a shield, but it was no use.

"I'm giving you a chance to come quietly before I do to you what Khashoggi did to Hilary Duff." Killer Queen glared at Page. Her previous comment had almost made Oz leap out of her seat, but Burton held her down.

"Madam, she's not going anywhere with you."

"If that's the way you want it, Khashoggi." She issued one of the many policemen to pull a weapon from his belt. "Do it." Two perfectly straight, green lasers shooting out of the man's gun was the last thing Page saw before both she and Khashoggi fell to the ground and blacked out entirely.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

A throbbing headache was the first thing Page felt when she regained consciousness. Panic was the second. She suddenly became very aware of her surroundings. A cage made of thin, green lasers pointed directly to the ground encircled Page and another familiar face. Everything else was black.

"Page!" Khashoggi whispered hoarsely, coming to his senses. He sat up on the cold, cement floor in the cage and shuffled closer to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She sighed. Nervous as hell, Page carefully attempted to scan the area outside their cage. "Do you think anyone else is here?" she whispered into Khashoggi's ear.

"Don't know..." He tried to examine the mysterious darkness, and then decided to be straight forward. "Hey!" he screamed. "Madam? Anybody? Is anyone there?"

No response proved that they were, in fact, alone. "What's she going to do with us?"

Khashoggi sighed. "No idea. Honestly, I'm surprised she didn't kill us when she had the chance."

Page shuddered at the thought. "Well, what should we do?"

"Wait." He answered without hesitation. "We have to wait. She may come for us in the morning..." He looked at his watch to verify the time. "Yes, see, it's still only midnight." They'd only been out for a couple of hours.

After a short silence, Page perked up. "What happened to the others?! Scaramouche, Figgy..."

"I don't know, Page. I'd expect they're safe."

"Why would she keep them alive after all that time trying to kill Galileo?"

"He's already given all he knows to the other Bohemians. The dreamer is no longer a threat to Killer Queen anymore. Besides, we seem to be okay."

"Well then why are _we_ here?"

"I don't know." Khashoggi whimpered. "I'm just as confused as you are."

There was a long pause before Page hugged her knees to her chest and looked Khashoggi in the eye – or at least tried to; it was hard with his sunglasses to see anything lurking behind their lenses. "Thank you," she looked at her shoes in embarrassment, "thank you for standing up for me."

His pale face turned a tinge of pink. "Of course. I wouldn't have her take you like that." Page wished she could just see his face...

"Why do you always keep those sunglasses on?" she demanded.

By the expression on his face, she could tell Khashoggi wasn't blinking. Page had never really been forceful with anyone before and he was taken aback. "My eyes... sometimes they make people uncomfortable."

"How? And who?"

"Mostly myself." He half-laughed. "Besides, I think they look cool."

"Don't change the subject." Page said, not able to resist smiling at his previous comment. "Why are you uncomfortable with yourself? Take off the glasses."

"No!"

"Come on, take them off."

"But..."

"Please?" Page gave an innocent smile and batted her eyelashes.

Khashoggi secretly cursed her. He put his right hand up to the frames and removed them from his face. His eyes were still closed.

"Khashoggi!" she argued lamely.

"Eh, fine." He lifted his lids and looked directly into Page's eyes. One of his eyes was a hazel colour. The other's iris was about double the size, and it shone bright blue. His whole face seemed to be brighter without the dark shades.

"What's wrong with that?"

"I'm different."

Page almost began to go off on him, but instead, forced a smile. "You're interesting." She corrected.

The look on his face went from unsure and nervous to comforted and flattered. He put his glasses to the edge of the cage where they lay forgotten.

"So, what made you want to join the Bohemians?" Khashoggi asked Page, his eyes locked to hers.

"When I heard music like it's supposed to be heard, I knew I'd been ignorant to the way life was supposed to be lived, and I couldn't live that way in Ga Ga Land. There's more to life than dancing and getting other people to like you."

"For example?" he inquired.

"Learning about who you are, and how to care for another person..." Page lost herself mid-thought in Khashoggi's smile. She immediately looked away from his staring eyes and giggled nervously. He moved to sit beside Page and extended his arm over her shoulder.

"You care about me." He teased in a quiet sing-song voice.

Page blushed a shade that matched her hot pink hairdo. "Yeah," she admitted, "but so do you." She had only made this assumption because he had just been twirling a piece of her hair with his finger. Luckily, she was right.

Khashoggi looked Page in the eye and smiled in a genuine way he never had before. She gazed back with curiosity and hope as he leaned his head towards hers and kissed her gently on the lips. He wasn't as cold as Page had imagined. His warm, soft features allowed for her to melt against him and wrap her arms around his neck. Their lips parted and Page smiled.

"Well then."

Khashoggi chuckled. "Didn't think I'd do it, did you?" he grinned proudly.

Page only responded with a giggle.

That evening she eventually fell asleep on the cool floor, Khashoggi's arm draped over her to keep her warm.

She awoke what seemed like minutes later to the sound of his voice in her ear.

"Okay Page, she's not here. No one is. I think it's time to escape."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"What's going on?" Page asked Khashoggi as he felt around on the floor for something.

"If we were anything more than prisoners, she would have had someone come and talk to us by now." he explained. "Let's get out of here." Khashoggi found his sunglasses within reach and held one of the lenses strategically under a single laser that created the cage. The angle at which the laser struck the lens caused it to bounce off the glass and hit a button on the wall. As the button was depressed, the cage retracted and a dim light flooded the room.

"How did you..." But before Page could finish her question, Khashoggi had grabbed her wrist and anxiously tugged her toward a door. She barely had time to acknowledge the newly lit room as they started at a run down a cold, grey corridor.

"Have you already forgotten I worked here for nearly seven years?" Khashoggi grinned back at Page. "I'd always forced myself to think of every possible way a prisoner could escape in order to tighten security..."

"And apparently you didn't do a very good job of it." The malicious voice of Killer Queen made the pair skid to a halt, just in time to save themselves from knocking into her.

"Madam!" he exclaimed.

"Where do you two think you're going?"

"Uh... nowhere?" Khashoggi answered, hopefully.

"Precisely." Killer Queen snapped her fingers, summoning two policemen to her sides. "Take the girl back to her cell."

Page's eyes went wide. Whatever happened to both her _and _Khashoggi being prisoners? "What?!" she cried, the two guards hooking themselves to each of her arms.

"No, madam!" Khashoggi screamed and gave a pleading look at the woman that had betrayed him many times before. Realizing there was nothing he could do, he spun around to see Page being dragged back down the corridor by the two large men. "Page!" he sprinted after her.

"Khashoggi!" She extended her arms as far as they could reach, flailing like a fish out of water in hopes of grabbing hold of something that may stop her from being trapped again. Khashoggi took one final leap and almost caught grasp of Page's hand. Their fingers barely brushed before the two men had thrown her back in the room and out of his sight.

"No!" Page screamed at the guards as they pressed the button on the wall again, reforming the laser cage around her. "Why are you doing this to me?!"

The taller of the two men replied, "Killer Queen always gets what she wants."

What the hell was that supposed to mean?! In her state of anger, Page stretched her arm through the lasers only to be shocked with a great deal of force. She retracted her arm and held it close to her chest to aid the pain.

Page had nothing but questions fogging her mind when the door reopened moments later. Khashoggi came strutting back into the room; his sunglasses firmly in place.

"Khashoggi, are you okay?" she asked, hoping he had a positive response.

"I spoke with Killer Queen."

"And..."

He sighed. "She said that you could be set free-"

"I sense an 'if' coming along..."

"- if I choose to go back with her."

"You told her no, right?" A long hesitation broke Page's heart. "Oh... I see."

"I'm sorry, Page." Khashoggi looked at his shoes in shame. "I thought this would be best. You could be free."

"I'd rather be your prisoner than have to go back out there."

"No." He said sternly. "Go back to the Heartbreak Hotel. Find the others. They'll be looking for you. You have to go. She'll be here in a minute and if you're still in the cage... well, the deal is off."

"I'm not moving."

"GO, PAGE!" he roared and pushed the button, revealing a clear and empty room to her. "Go, now!"

"I won't let you do this."

"I wasn't waiting for your permission." At his words, the two guards returned, picked up Page and carried her out of the room. Khashoggi felt her pain, but knew this was best for both of them. As he heard her screams get quieter and quieter as the distance between them increased, a single tear slid down his cheek.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"Stop it! Put me down!"

Page had been trying to escape the guards, but it was no use as their strong forms could overpower her fairly weak one any day. Her pink ponytails whipped about as she thrashed and wiggled trying to free herself from their grip. The two guards opened a big, heavy metal door and threw Page onto the dirt road outside it.

The moment she was released from their tough hands, Page quickly regained her footing and angrily punched the door which they had slammed shut behind her.

"No! No, let me back in! Khashoggi, if I _ever_ get my hands on you, I swear you'll wish you'd never been born at all!" She shouted anything at the door to help her case. Punching and kicking didn't seem to help get it open either.

Page kicked the dirt furiously and then began to cry. She'd given up and allowed herself to sink to the ground, burying her face in her knees. Tears washed away her green and black make up, smudging her face terribly.

Upon realizing that no one was coming out for her, she decided that her only option was to go looking for the Bohemians. Surely they would have migrated to a new home, now that the Heartbreak Hotel had been infiltrated. They couldn't have gone very far.

Page walked for what felt like hours in the blistering heat before taking a break. She hadn't eaten since Oz's birthday party and her body craved energy – even the slightest sip of water would have helped. Sitting on the roadside, Page thought of every possible place the other Bohemians could be.

As she stared at the ground, Page noticed three pairs of white running shoes carrying naked legs approaching her seat.

"Oh my God." a voice said as they stopped in front of her pouting image. Page raised her head slowly to see three Ga Ga Girls. Their faces were all too familiar. Her old friends squinted at her disgustedly and stood identically, hands on their hips. Tight shirts, short skirts, and they were all sporting blonde hair with colourful highlights. Page used to be one of them, too. She was immediately embarrassed.

"What a freak." The shortest of the three laughed. Page used to be the smallest; now she definitely _felt_ smallest.

"Never thought I'd see you again." Page snarled, rolling her eyes.

The tallest widened her eyes. "Jenny?"

"It's Page, actually. I'm assuming you three are still Heather, Janet and Stephanie."

"Ugh." The shortest, Heather, groaned.

The tallest, Janet, concluded that they should be civil. Later, Page realized that she was being mocked. "How's the new life working out?"

"Great." Page said, a phony grin painted on her face.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow. "Let's go, girls. I can feel my hair curling just being around this freak."

"Yeah!" They all said in unison, holding their hands up, as if creating a wall between Page and themselves, then with one swift movement they continued on their way down the road.

Had it not been for Page's need to give them a rude finger gesture behind their backs, she would not have noticed a silver chain wrapped around her wrist. Had Khashoggi given that to her when she wasn't aware of it? However it had gotten there, Page thought it looked nice and chose to keep it on.

"Page!" a girl from behind her growled. "Are you alright?" Oz ran to her side and flopped lazily down next to her. "I can't believe I found you, what happened..." her voice trailed off as she hesitated before asking the next question. "Why are you alone? Where is Khashoggi?"

Tears of frustration surfaced. "He's gone back with her... the only way he told me she would let me go is if he took her back and returned to Globalsoft."

Oz snaked her arms around Page's middle and squeezed her tight. "Oh, Page. I know how you feel. My baby left me, too."

"Where'd he go?"

"He... he took the stairway to heaven."

"Oh no, I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, babe." Oz didn't cry. She didn't even look sad as the memories came flooding back. She was smiling half-heartedly but it was a smile nonetheless. "I know that he died for a reason. He had a purpose."

"What happened?"

"He sacrificed himself for the dreamer."

"Figgy... but who..." Suddenly it all clicked. Khashoggi was the one who'd killed Oz's boyfriend. "Oh, wow."

"I still feel as though he's here with me every day... I could never find someone as amazing as him."

"How could you not hate me for being with Khashoggi after what he did to you?" Page's anger toward Khashoggi faded as her sadness grew.

"Because it was so obvious you two cared about each other. I'd only seen a guy look at a girl like that the day I met Scaramouche and Figgy. I couldn't take him away from you after I lost Duff..."

Page smiled sympathetically at Oz. Her arms were still locked around Page, hugging her as if she were the Duff that had long gone. "You're a good person, Oz."

Oz beamed at Page and then seemed to be struck by the real reason she had been looking for her. "We should probably get going. I have to show you where we've moved."

"A new Heartbreak?"

"A new Heartbreak."

Oz helped age up from the road and led her in the direction of their new home.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The Bohemians' new home wasn't as big and glamorous as the old one had been, but it was still nice and homey. The abandoned motel would have to do.

It had been a week since Khashoggi had forced Page free of her cell and she was still lost. She spent most of her time moping around inside – she didn't even bother with her hair or make up anymore. Page's brown roots were growing out and fading into pink, she wore no green eye shadow or black liner, and she wasn't sure if her clothes matched or not.

What was the point? If Khashoggi wasn't there, she didn't have the initiative to even get up in the morning. Unfortunately, her reoccurring nightmares of his betrayal robbed her of sleep anyways.

Page sat up in bed one morning, just staring blankly at the wall in front of her. A knock on her bedroom door did not faze her.

"Page?" The voice belonging to Galileo said cautiously; his shadow could be seen from the corner of her eye. Page grunted to show she acknowledged his presence. Galileo sat on the bed next to her and chuckled. "Someone's got a bed head."

"Do I?" asked Page, showing no interest.

Galileo cleared his throat and reached for the hairbrush on her bedside table, then grasped it in his left hand and gently began to work it through her matted, discoloured hair. "We're worried about you." He spoke from behind her, continuing to brush.

"Why?" It came out as more of a statement then a question.

"You haven't really done anything the past week." He sighed. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"What does it matter?"

"Page," Galileo said sternly, "you can't let this guy bring you down. If he left you so quickly, maybe he didn't really like you in the first place."

It took all of her strength not to sock him in the nose right then. "You didn't know him like I did." Page argued pathetically. "He was kind, and sincere, and when we were together... he made my heart beat faster than ever. He made me _feel_,Figgy."

"I know what you mean, but you can't live inside and beat yourself up about it. Guys will come and go, but you'll always have us. Scaramouche, Oz and me, we'll always be here for you."

That comment brought Page back to reality, making her turn around and look him in the eye. "You're right. He's gone. I have to accept that." Figgy smiled and nodded, combing his fingers through her now silky hair.

"I have one question for you."

"Shoot."

"Was that the only reason why Killer Queen arrested you – to get Khashoggi back?"

Page cocked her head. "I think so. I mean, she didn't seem to want me for anything at all... and she would have arrested all of you, too."

"So, rock and roll is still legal?"

"Must be... she probably just hates it because it's bringing Globalsoft down?"

Galileo furrowed his brow. "That makes sense." He grinned at Page, and then used her leg as leverage to get him off of her bed. "I'll be outside if you need to talk to someone."

"Hey, Figgy?" Page said, grabbing his attention before he was out of sight. He quickly turned on his heel.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Page smiled meekly at him as he smiled back and left the room.

Galileo had just exited her room when Page heard him bark angrily, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Moments later, a grey blur could be seen running down the corridor and a man positioned himself awkwardly in Page's doorway. He looked no different than the day he'd disappeared; from his shiny black shoes, to his grey suit, to his dark sunglasses.

"KHASHOGGI?!" Page exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Page," he said simply. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Well, why don't you start off with how you found me and why you betrayed me like that?" she hotly replied.

Khashoggi sighed. "Can I sit down?" Page only gave a short nod, giving him the impression it was safe to sit. "First of all, they put these tracking bracelets on us when we were arrested." Page glared at the wall, refusing to look at him. "I didn't know what else to do, Page. I thought it would be better to let you free than have us both prisoners! I thought you would be grateful I spared your life!"

"But you weren't a prisoner, you were her lover!"

"I was a prisoner!" he argued, raising his voice to a volume Page had never heard from him before. He lowered his voice again and said softly, "She was keeping me from you. That was the worst punishment I could imagine. Just knowing you were free gave me the hope that at least you may be smiling..."

Page immediately felt stupid and embarrassed for ever accusing Khashoggi of leaving her. It also occurred to her how underdressed and smelly she must be, having not changed or showered much in the past week. Blushing, she asked, "Why are you here now?"

"I don't want to pretend anymore." He exhaled deeply. "I love you, Page."

Her eyes widened and she whipped her head so that, for the first time that day, she could look him in the eye. His sunglasses had been pocketed. His hazel and blue eyes both looked into her brown ones with sincerity. Page couldn't help but beam, tears of happiness running down her cheeks. "I love you, too, Khashoggi." Being caught up in the moment, she thrust her lips at his own, and kissed him with such a passion; as if she never wanted them to part ever again. He pulled away unenthusiastically.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes..." he smiled at her.

"Not particularly... I really need to get some make up on... Figgy just brushed my hair... I haven't changed in a while..."

"You're beautiful." Khashoggi grinned, and then quickly changed the subject to a more pressing matter. "What do I do about Killer Queen?" he inquired, hoping Page would have an answer. Lucky enough, she did.

"You have to prove to her that you don't love her anymore."

"How do I do that?"

A smirk formed quickly on Page's face. "What does she hate more than anything?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"What?" Khashoggi asked, not knowing how to respond to Page's question.

"What does Killer Queen hate more than anything?" After a long silence proving his ignorance, she gave him the answer. "Kick ass rock and roll music."

"So, how can we use that to tell her I love you?"

Although he'd already told her how he felt, the three small words made Page grin like mad. "Well, I have an idea."

"Okay..."

"First things first, you need a makeover."

Khashoggi didn't light up at the idea, but instead he smirked. He'd caught on to exactly what Page was considering. She tugged him by the sleeve of his jacket to the large mirror in her room and sat him down on the chair facing it – she had usually used this set up when Oz did her hair and makeup, but she hadn't touched it in weeks. Oz had stopped treating Page like her personal doll to dress up when Khashoggi had left and Page was no longer fun to be around.

"What are you going to do?" he inquired, sounding both excited and nervous. Silently, Page ran her fingers through his short, greased back hair, combing it the way he must have in order to keep it flat. Without warning, she took her palms and pushed all of the hair hiding in the back towards the front, causing his white blonde hair to poke out in all directions. The look on his face was almost painful, but he knew it had to be done – for Page. In her opinion, Khashoggi's hair looked great; it was in total disarray. If he'd put on his sunglasses now, he would have looked very punk rock.

"Next comes the makeup." Page smiled gingerly and opened the top drawer of her dresser to reveal to Khashoggi all of the powers, pastes and polishes she had available to use on him.

His eyes immediately widened and he sucked in his breath. "Nothing _too_ drastic, Page..."

"Don't worry, I won't do anything like Burton's got." Burton Cummings was the most made up of all the Bohemians. His face was completely painted black and white and his nails donned dark polish. His makeup kind of reminded Page of a band called KISS. A sigh of relief verified that's exactly what he feared. It didn't take long for Page to have given Khashoggi the rock makeover: thick black eyeliner; subtle purple shadow and dark red lipstick for a final touch. His skin was already pale enough. She mentally pegged him as a dark David Bowie and chuckled to herself.

"What? Does it look that horrible?" He inspected himself in the mirror and frowned. "I knew it, I look ridiculous."

"Hey!" Page perked up defensively. "You look great! You just need some new clothes so your make up doesn't look so out of place..."

She left Khashoggi alone in the chair as she yanked the double doors to her closet open. "Here, take this." Page threw so many articles of clothing at him that his lap was buried in the pile.

Stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her, Page gave Khashoggi the privacy to change into his new outfit. She may have been more anxious about the whole situation than he was. This would either give Killer Queen enough proof that he didn't want her, or it would infuriate her to the point of locking them back up again and making him her prisoner. And God knew that Page couldn't go without Khashoggi's company for a day longer.

The wooden door slowly creaked open on its hinges, inviting Page into the room. "What do you think?" Khashoggi stood simple in the centre of the room. He wore fading blue jeans; dark blue Converse running shoes; a grey t-shirt with an Iron Maiden logo on the front and a brown leather jacket. "I feel stupid."

"Okay, so the makeup is a bit much." Page took a tissue to his eyelids and wiped away the shadow and lipstick, only leaving the eyeliner. "That's better. Hey, you could even put your sunglasses back on!"

Khashoggi did not move to pick them up off the dresser. "I don't want to."

Page cracked a smile and nodded. "I think you're ready."

Khashoggi and Page stood hand in hand in front of the door to the Globalsoft head office building – the place where they had been captive only eleven days prior. Page looked up at him as if to ask if he was ready. He nodded in response to her gaze and they simultaneously grabbed a door handle and pulled.

Upon coming to her office door, Khashoggi didn't hesitate before letting himself in.

"Madam." He acknowledged, approaching the large glass desk she sat at.

"Khashoggi... what are you..." she stammered, "What is she doing here?"

"You'll never get it any other way."

"What are you talking about?"

Khashoggi removed the guitar case from his back, unzipped it and withdrew Page's Stratocaster from inside. Meanwhile, Page set down the amp she was carrying, plugged it into the wall and then synced it to her guitar so no cords were necessary. Khashoggi stood with both legs spread apart, the guitar hung between them.

"I want to break free!" he sung quietly, but filled with fury. "I want to break free!" he repeated, louder this time. "I want to break free from your lies, you're so self-satisfied, I don't need you!" he stepped up to her desk and planted his palms on the glass, then with one swift movement, swiped the desk clean of everything on it; including the computer resting on top. Killer Queen's jaw dropped open. "God knows, God knows I want to break free!" he held the note a little longer, then pulled a guitar pick out of his pocket and prepared to play.

Khashoggi strummed the first chord with no reservations. The sound emitting from the guitar was loud and vibrated off the walls of the office. "I've fallen in love!" he cried. "I've fallen in love for the first time, and this time I know it's for real!" He walked carefully up to Page and continued singing, this time with less anger and more passion. "God knows, God knows I've fallen in love... It's strange, but it's true, I can't get over the way you love me like you do."

He ran back up to Killer Queen, who was now standing in front of her desk, awestruck by the spectacle in front of her. "But I have to be sure when I walk out that door, oh how I want to be free, baby. Oh, how I want to be free... Oh yeah, I want to break free!"

Khashoggi began working at the strings, picking away a solo that he never imagined he would have the talent to perform. The solo stopped abruptly with a single note and he continued singing to a heavy chord progression. "But life still goes on." He whipped his neck back to glance at Page again. "I can't get used to living without," he took a step towards her, "Living without," another step, "Living without you," at his final step, he stopped strumming and touched her face, "by my side. I don't want to live alone..."

Killer Queen grabbed his arm and swung him back around to face her, but it did not interrupt his song. "God knows, I've got to make it on my own! So baby, can't you see? God knows I've got to, God knows I need to, God knows I want to break free!" He held his last note, both on the guitar and his vocals, for as long as he could and then strummed the guitar one last time.

Page could not believe how proud she was of Khashoggi for standing up for himself; she sprinted across the large office and jumped into his arms, which were already held out to accept her. He lifted her off the ground with his embrace and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose.

"Khashoggi... I..." Was Killer Queen at a loss for words? "... I didn't know you felt so... so strongly." Both he and Page were wide-eyed with hope. "You can go." She hung her head in shame and embarrassment as they jumped and cheered.

"Congratulations, you two." Figgy said to them back at the Heartbreak Motel, beaming at Page.

Scaramouche jumped up and down excitedly and then ran towards Page and Khashoggi, wrapping an arm around each of them. "I can't believe it, guys!"

"Hey, now Scaramouche and I can double date." Figgy joked, winking at Scaramouche. She laughed and hugged his side.

"Page," Oz said, calmly nearing the couple whose hands were interlocked. "I'm really happy for you." She poked Page in the stomach. "Come here, you." She put her arm over Page's shoulder and smiled. "Good for you; stickin' it to the man."

"Woman," Khashoggi corrected.

"Eh," Oz shrugged. "Does it make a difference?" She grinned and left with Scaramouche and Figgy.

Khashoggi glanced down at Page and beamed at her. "I never dreamed I'd fall in love with a Bohemian, before."

She grinned up at him and stood on her tiptoes, gaining the few inches she needed to kiss him. Backing away, a smile still plastered on her face, she replied, "Neither did I."


End file.
